Beastly Beauty
by seven.suns
Summary: A story inspired on the original fairytale of 'The Beauty and the Beast'. It's an adult version and it is rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**1.**

The wind was cold and brisk. The forest seemed to extend to no ends. There was a darkness surrounding the great castle. Something in the air gave the poor, fat man a chilly shiver that made his limbs wilt instantly. He needed to walk, to take a step ahead, to climb the vertiginous path towards the haunted palace but it seemed as though he couldn't move an inch. Everything in his being was wary, on alert, expecting a monster to appear and jump from behind the thick bushes, killing him at once.

The man took a deep breath, briefly considered going back, but regained his strength while thinking about his beautiful, precious daughters. They needed him. He needed them. And so he _had_ to do this.

There was no turning back.

With a heavy heart and an empty pair of lungs the man began his journey. He climbed and climbed and climbed until an intimidating, high as the sky, iron gate obstructed his passage. The bars were thick and rusty and in the center was craved an intriguing emblem bathed in gold. The man squinted his eyes trying to understand what that badge represented. Animals it seemed. A snake and a lion twirled in a fight. There was more to it but his simple mind couldn't make the rest.

He raised his hand to knock on the heavy gate but again his will crumbled. His breathing became shallow and cold. Could he do this? Everyone in town pledged him for a fool. And probably he was one. Who on their right frame of mind would come to the dragon's lair? _Willingly_?

Only this lair didn't belong to a dragon but a monster. A cruel, sadistic, loathed monster who happened to be rightful Lord of these lands. The rightful Lord of his own fate.

Another deep breath calmed down the man some more and he gained his focus once more. In one swift, quick and tempting move, his hand reached the dense knob and he knocked it soundly. The sound reverberated through in the air and spread through out the menacing woods. The leaves shook violently and the birds made their presence known in high-pitched chants. There was even a creepy howl in the distance.

After that, though, nothing else happened. The man considered walking away, half relieved, half disappointed.

He was just about to take the first step backwards when the old, grungy gate opened in a shrilling, deafening noise. Out of nowhere, a shadowy figure approached the fat man. A struggled cry escaped the visitor's mouth but his body stuck glued to the floor, pumping madly with apprehension.

"Fear not myself." The figure spoke, coming closer, exposing his manly features. "What brings you here, peasant?"

The man took a deep breath. It wasn't the Lord yet. Just one of his lackeys. "I need to speak with Master Grey. It is absolutely urgent."

The lackey didn't show surprise or shock. He simply nodded thoughtfully before turning around. "Wait here." He stated and began walking towards the castle.

The man did as told. He stood still, completely rooted to the spot.

* * *

"Master," A subtle, quiet voice spoke from behind the great column that supported the entrance to this room. "There is a man here to see you."

The Master's face was covered in shadows. He was seated in a big armchair by the fire, absently watching the landscape from his window. His footman words broke him from his trance. With a low growl the Master's head turned in the direction of the man who didn't dare to take a step closer.

"Whom?" He simply asked.

"I believe his name his Raymond Steele. He is one of your peasants down at the east village."

"Hmm," The Master breathed, thinking thoughtfully about that information. He knew all his subjects. They might not acknowledge that, but he knew. It was part of his duties as a Lord, after all. "I will not receive him." He spoke finally.

"The man said it was urgent." The lackey tried again, timidly as ever.

The Master growled again. This time more menacingly. He didn't like being crossed or having his decisions questioned. With a deep breath he shook his head. He was the dark Master, the loathed Lord, the feared Monster. He could do as he pleased. And he pleased not to attend to the peasant.

Still, after a more careful deliberation, he decided to see what the man wanted. He had travelled all the way here, after all, and was obviously brave enough to face his wrath.

"Send him in." The Master agreed.

The lackey said no more and instead went to fetch the fat man at once. As expected Raymond Steele was still on the same place, trembling from head to toe, looking as queasy as before. The footman told the Master would receive him and with no more words guided him to the inside of terrifying palace.

The place was enormous, cold, naked and dark just like its surroundings. It gave Raymond even more chills, but he tried hard to not show his weakness.

Finally they stopped in front of a big, wooden door that gave access to Master Grey's wing. The lackey stood back and gestured for the visitor to go ahead.

"You may go in." He said. "Master's awaiting you."

Raymond gulped hard and nodded unable to utter a word. This was it. The big moment. There was no running away, no trying to hide, no alternative. He was going to see and hear and beg to his Lord for the first time in his life, but that was the only chance he had now.

With shaky steps, he walked inside.

By the corned, near a fireplace, next to a grandiose window he saw the Master, completely covered by shadows.

He coughed and tried to straight his spine. "My Lord." Raymond said as a way of greeting.

Master Grey said nothing at first, but then shifted in his seat and turned sideways towards the poor man. "What brings you here?"

His voice was deep, hoarse and cold. It sent shivers down the man's spine. "I am here… I am here to seek your help."

The Master let out a guttural chuckle that made Raymond jump. "And what would I help you with?" Grey asked clearly amused by the peasant's boldness. In all these years no one had been so explicit about their desires without fear of his reaction. This simple man though, seemed to be beyond that stage.

"As you have known, there was a storm this past week. It was violent beyond words. It destroyed half the town's houses." He took a deep breath, steadying himself to continue on with the story. "Mine was one of them. I would not dare to disturb you if that was all to it, but my wife passed away that day as well, and I cannot afford to raise my three daughters alone and with no roof over their heads."

The Master stood quiet for a good measure of time, pondering the man's words. Drastic issues no doubt, but he wasn't a soft heart and the problems weren't his. "What do you expect of me?"

"I beg to your mercy, my Lord. If you gave me another house, perhaps in some other of your villages, I would work harder than I ever have, and would give whichever percentage of crops you wished for, providing you allowed me to stay with some to feed my children."

"I have no need for more crops!" The Master said with a heavy, almost angry voice, tapping the arm of the chair with brutal force. "That serves me for nothing."

The man's eyes widened with fear of both the Lord and the fate he would condemn his family to. "Please, Master Grey!" Raymond begged, taking a daring step forward. "I will be forever in debt with you. I will give you whatever you need. Whatever you wish for!"

The Master considered this for an incredibly extensive period of time. He had no need for more crops. The food he had could serve him and an army of equals just fine. Unfortunately, though, he was the only beast and being of this castle, excluding the wary servants he had wandering around.

Though it pained him to admit it, he felt lonely. Tired of his own self, of his own company, of his own existence.

Crops held no attraction to him but another wicked thought came across his mind.

"You say you would give _anything_ I wish for?" The Master asked.

"Anything, my Lord." Raymond complied meekly.

"Very well," The Master said and got up with one gracious move. "I want one of your daughters."

The man's face paled drastically. "They're merely children…"

"I have no wish for them now. If you agree to it, I will pick one of them whenever I please." Master Grey grinned. He was conceived as dark monster indeed, so this just served to prove the point.

"I… I cannot…" Raymond fell silent. What could he say to that? That he agreed? Could he sell one of his own children? Could he deny the rest of them a possibility of a life? If he did not take the offer, he wouldn't be able to grant their survival. At least with a house and a land he could provide for them. He took a deep breath and wished with all his strength his wife was still around to guide him. With a small prayer he clasped his hands and hanged his head in shame. "I agree to your terms."

Grey nodded his head thoughtfully. "Very well. Fetch your children and I will send somebody to guide you to another village."

Raymond didn't dare to look his Lord in the eyes. He was so upset about this outcome, he didn't wish to see the face of the monster who would steal away one of his little daughters. "Thank you Master Grey." He breathed with a shaky voice, before walking away.

The Master stood still by the window thinking what he had done. His offer had been made on impulse. Was he really ready to live with another being? And with a _woman_ of all creatures?

He shook his scarred head. Perhaps he wasn't, but now there was no turning back. Christian Grey was a beast that stood by his word.


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

There were little birds flying everywhere, chanting enticingly and making Anastasia's tiny heart warmer with each note. It was so beautiful. Bright colors were twirling above her head, her face was tilted up and her hands reaching to the sky in an unsuccessful attempt to catch the chirpy creatures.

"Anastasia!" She heard the familiar voice calling out. "Come here at once."

It was her father.

She knew it, not only because of the timbre, but also due to the sentiment behind the simple words. There was an undertone of anger and sadness that Anastasia didn't recognize when her father spoke to anyone else. It seemed as though he reserved those feelings _just_ for her. And she took great care in learning the emotions behind each one's voice since hearing was her faithful sense. Sight, unfortunately, had not been kind on her and the little girl's vision was nothing more than a blurry mess of colors and shadows.

Anastasia was almost blind. That wasn't a handicap for herself, she was happy and perky as any eight years old girl, but her family seemed to regard her problem in another light. Her father would never tell her so, despite all he loved her much, but both her sisters had no qualms in making their thoughts known.

The girl waved the birds away and ran towards the little wooden cottage where they lived. Her father was at the back door, holding a pitchfork, ready to go to his day of work on the fields. Anastasia could only see a dark shadow looming over her, but she could sense his apprehension.

"What did I tell you already?" He asked sternly.

Anastasia hung her head in shame. She knew she wasn't supposed to venture into the back woods without the supervision of someone else. Someone who could _see_. It annoyed her that rule. She needn't anyone with her. Her sight laid on her ears and her hands, and she could explore anything with them. Plus, neither one of her sisters cared to take her to the forest when she asked them to.

"I am sorry, Papa." Anastasia said honestly. She wished not to worry her father, but she also wanted to feel joy without the fear of repercussions.

"Do not go into those woods alone." Raymond chastised her. "It is dangerous. Far more dangerous than you can understand."

Anastasia nodded, her mass of unruly curls bouncing from her shoulders. "The birds took me there. They were so pretty." She tried to explain as best as she could.

Her father though, cared to hear none of it. He waved his hand in a reprimand gesture. "I care not for it." He was upset with his daughter careless behavior, but looking down at her and gazing at her big, bright eyes, his heart softened. He crouched to her height. "Ana, darling, there are creatures out there you know nothing about. And you shouldn't know either. It is for you own protection. Do you understand?"

Anastasia nodded again, still silent, still sad.

"Promise me you won't go there while I'm away?"

She bit her lip furiously. Could she promise that? She didn't want to lie to her father. "I promise." She finally whispered in a pained voice that made Raymond flinch, uncomfortable.

"Good. I will see you later." With that, he tousled her dark hair and walked away towards the fields.

Raymond couldn't understand what his daughter went through. He was lucky enough to have all senses and limbs as tough as iron. Both his older children were equally healthy and beautiful as princesses. Only the little one came with a quirk. And none of them knew how to deal with that.

He sighed and continued on his path, southwards of his cottage. The cottage that was given by his Lord. All these years since he asked the dark Master's help, Raymond refused to think about the consequences of his request. The monster hadn't yet come for one of his daughters and he hoped he would forget and never come either.

That was unlikely, he knew it, but he still wished vehemently for it.

Even for Anastasia, spending her life in the presence of a vile beast, wasn't something he bid for. That is why he cared so much to keep her away from the woods. They were only a long walk away from Master Grey's castle and who knew what could happen if she ever stumbled upon it.

Raymond took a deep breath and shook his head. He needed to work now, not think about unfortunate issues.

* * *

"Katherine!" Anastasia chirped in from the kitchen's entrance. "Is this flower pretty?"

Her older sister rolled her eyes. "Yes." She said in an annoyed tone.

"What's the color?" The little girl pushed gleefully, walking closer to her and smiling brightly. "Are the petals very big?"

She could feel through her tiny fingers that they were. The petals were big and soft and silky like. But she still wanted to hear Katherine's description of the flower. She liked when her family would picture verbally how things truly were. It gave her another perspective and it helped her imagine the world more accurately.

"Anastasia," Katherine huffed, cleaning her hands on the dirty cloth that stood loosely wrapped around her apron. She flipped her long, shinny, straight hair behind her shoulders and smoothed the wrinkles of her sleeves. She may be poor, but she was proud of her looks nonetheless. "You can't see. Stop trying to."

The little girl's lip trembled a bit. Not that she minded being remembered of the fact she couldn't see properly. The blurry sights that greeted her every day did that for her. It was the annoyed and utterly tired tone on her sister's voice that made her heart constrict. Was she really such a big of a burden?

She wished not to be. And in reality, Anastasia did all she could by herself, just to prevent bothering any family member. She understood they were busy and worked a lot to keep the house clean and the food on the table. The minimum she could do was stay out of the way but sometimes, though, she just wanted to have some company, some attention, some friends.

"I'm sorry…" She said softly, letting the pinkish flower drop from her tiny hands and fall like a feather in the soiled floor.

"I'm occupied right now. Some of us have tasks to do." Katherine said crisply, shoving the little girl out of the way. Anastasia stumbled slightly but managed to regain her balance quickly. Instead of getting upset with her sister's demeanor, she got preoccupied that perhaps Katherine was working too much without any assistance. Julianne should have been here helping her in whatever task they were supposed to perform.

"Do you need any help?" Anastasia asked, walking to her older sibling side. She hated being cast aside just because she couldn't see as well as the others.

Katherine produced an awful, un-girly noise that resembled a snort and glanced distastefully at the little brunette. "It is because you cannot help that I'm stuck in this kitchen." She complained bluntly.

Anastasia nodded slowly, interiorizing the meaning of the blond's answer. "But I can do something. And we can finish this earlier." She offered with a tempting smile.

Her sister huffed again and returned to the dishes she was washing previously. "I do not need your assistance."

Even though she wasn't wanted there, Anastasia figured it was best if she stood around, just in case Katherine changed her mind and decided to take her offer. She went to the small table and sat silently on a stool. With nothing to do, she decided to plait her hair.

The brunette had just finished knotting her unfashionable braid when their older sister came rushing in, leaving the front door ajar and allowing the brisk wind to sneak inside the cottage. Her cheeks was flustered, her long blond hair disheveled, and her eyes shinny. Something excited had happened and she could not wait to share it with her best friend.

"Katherine!" She squealed while grabbing her sister's arms. "You will not believe who is back in town."

The other blond didn't answer at first, she just widened her eyes and gestured for Julianne to spill up the news, at last she asked. "Who?"

"Jonathan!"

There was a collective gasp between the two of them as they started to exchange knowing glances and girlish giggles. Anastasia knew little of who Jonathan truly was, her sisters never took her to the village's center, and so she had never met any of the persons they gushed about. But she had heard plenty about _this_ boy from the whispered conversations Katherine and Julianne would have at night once they though the youngest was asleep.

He seemed to be a boy, a very beautiful one, from what her sisters told, that worked with his father in faraway lands and only came to visit his family occasionally. He could not be older than sixteen but it was said he was a fine example of manhood. Every girl in town had their eyes on him and hoped he would pick them as his wife in one of his visits to the village.

Anastasia could not see her siblings, but she knew from the bottom of her little heart, they were both stunning. She wished too, alongside them, that Jonathan would choose one to become his wife. It would make the lucky sister very happy and she wanted nothing more than her family's joy.

"We have to go see him!" Julianne continued, completely ignoring the brunette girl that stood close by, listening attentively to their dialogue. "It could be our chance!"

There was no doubt, by her tone of voice, that she was excited about that prospect. Katherine was too, at first. "Oh," The middle-aged sister sighed sadly. "I cannot. Father ordained me to clean the kitchen."

Anastasia cringed inside hearing the sadness in her sister words and couldn't help but feel bad. Julianne sighed too, displeased with this outcome. She wanted the opportunity to talk to Jonathan as she was close to his age and could make a fine wife.

"Wait!" Katherine said suddenly, making both girls jump in surprise. She bent down to pick up the flower that was forgotten on the floor. "Anastasia," She called with a sweet tone capable of warm the coldest of hearts. "You can help, can you not?"

Not wanting to make either of her siblings sad, the little girl nodded enthusiastically. "I can." She stated proudly.

"Here," Katherine said, burying the flower under Anastasia dark curls, right next to her ear. "This flower is very pretty. It looks marvelous on you. Does it not, Julianne?"

Julianne picked up on her sister's intentions fairly quickly. She crouched down next to the youngest and ruffled her hair gingerly. "It does. It looks beautiful on your hair."

Anastasia's grin couldn't get wider. Could it be, in fact, true that the flower she had brought earlier looked good on her? "Does it really?" She asked with starry eyes.

"It does too." Katherine pushed, gently squeezing her tiny hand. "So, do you still want to help me?"

"I do." She said firmly.

"Good. So maybe you could wash the remain of the dishes?"

Anastasia gasped. She desperately wanted to help, but she wasn't sure she could do that, as she had never been allowed to even try. "I know not if I'm capable." She admitted with a sad voice.

"Of course you are," Julianne chirped in, in a tone as sweet and caring and the other sister. "It very easy, you will see."

"Yes, it is so simple. You can do it too." Katherine agreed, nodding her head even though Anastasia could not see the gesture. She grabbed her little sister's arms and pushed her forwards towards the bowl of water. "Here," She said placing both their hands on the water. "You just have to wash these dishes that are inside the bowl with this cloth, and then put them to dry on the table."

"Easy, is it not?" Julianne asked right behind her.

Anastasia thought for a bit. Timidly, she searched the inside of the bowl for the dishes she needed to wash and found a lot of utensils still unclean, with a shaky hand she grabbed the cloth and passed it by a plate that was near her. Her confidence grew a little. It was easy indeed. She smiled proud of herself for doing something as regular as this.

"I can do it." She stated with obvious happiness.

"I told, have I not?" Katherine said, half hugging her. "You are capable of it."

"Now you just stay here and wash everything. Careful not to break the dishes!" Julianne warned her with a slightly stern tone that implied she was serious about that advice.

Anastasia simply nodded, still smiling, still content with what she was doing.

The older sisters rushed to the door and waved their goodbyes even though they weren't seen. "When you are done with that, just stay inside." Katherine yelled from the outside. "And mop the floor if you can!" With that she closed the door with a soundly thud.

The petite brunette was left alone to fend for herself, but she didn't worry about it. She was enjoying her mundane task too much to even think of other issues.

How much time had passed since she had begun washing the dishes until the present moment, Anastasia couldn't dictate precisely. She was too busy to consider such frivolous matters. With a deep frown and the lower lip trapped between her white teeth, she was absolutely concentrated in the chore at hands. It made her feel normal. And she enjoyed that feeling plenty.

She had just finished her last dish, and was walking gingerly towards the table, intending to put it there to dry. The cloth, she had tightly wrapped around her hand, though, was big enough that it dragged through the floor and just when the little girl was reaching her destination, the piece of dirty fabric twirled around her feet, made her stumble and fell on the ground, crashing the lastly cleaned plate.

The thick crockery shattered in infinite pieces and Anastasia couldn't believe her fate. On all fours, she fought to keep the trembling tears at bay, and begun to pick up the remains of the plate. It was hard since the inside of the cottage allowed only a dimly lighting to come from the small windows and the sun was already setting far away. She couldn't see properly what she was doing or even if she was doing it properly.

She was trying to be fast, just to prevent the arrival of any of the sisters, or worst, the father. If they saw her in this scenery, they would, undoubtedly, get mad. And she didn't want that.

"Oh!" A struggled cry escaped her knotted throat when a sharp piece of earthenware cut deeply into her hand. Immediately she raised it to her chest and allowed a single tear to slip through her thick lashes. It stung. And she knew not what to do.

Anastasia didn't want to face the wrath her father would certainly save for her clumsiness, or the punishments her sisters would surely convey to reprimand her failure. She was frustrated with herself and her inability to be like all the others girls and she was scared of what could await her. She wasn't thinking clearly. And so she decided to act upon the first idea that crossed her mind.

With shaky fingers she grabbed the dirty cloth and wrapped it clumsily around her wounded hand. She knew her family's cottage like her own palm, so she slipped through the back door easily. With a deep breath she cleaned her unshed tears and began to run.

She ran to the woods. She ran through the woods. She ran and ran and ran until her small lungs couldn't take in any more of the twilight's crisp air.

Anastasia stopped.

She hadn't the slimmest clue of where she could be. She had never wandered this far before.

At first, fear crept through her spine. Was she lost? Was there any creepy and dangerous creatures looking at her? Would she ever be able to return home? Time seemed to still while she pondered those hypotheses. Confusion clouded her mind. She wasn't sure if she should keep running or start crying. Stretching out her arms, she started to move in a slow pace, fishing for some kind of stick that could guide her through the forest.

She had one at home, but back there she knew every path so well, she had no use for it. Now, though, something to serve as eyes would be welcomed.

At last, Anastasia found something. A slender, breakable wooden stick. It would have to do, for the moment being.

The little girl started to explore her surroundings with the tip of her twig. Timidly, she wagged it to the right, and hit a tree. Reluctantly, she tried the left, and hit a big rock. With a deep sigh she decided to continue straight ahead. For all she could gather, she was heading towards a clearing. She wished not to enter farther in the woods, but it seemed like the only option left.

Anastasia glanced sideways to check if something was following her. The only things she could see were the tall shadows of the ancient trees and the bloody crimson of the dusky sky. Still, she felt the need to verify if there weren't any of those dangerous creatures her father warned her about, luring around her.

There weren't.

At least not now. Or so, her faithful hearing told.

The petite brunette kept walking, regaining her calm with every step. Regardless of where she was heading she was sure that, somehow, she would find her path home. She was so focused on those positive thoughts, she almost failed to recognize the sound of footsteps.

Heavy footsteps.

In a second's time, she turned around widely, determined to discover who could be her follower. She grabbed her stick like a warrior and decided to interrogate her follower while she still controlled her voice.

"Who is there?" Anastasia wanted to appear brave and strong, but her voice came out as a whisper.

No one answered. Perhaps there wasn't anyone else. Or perhaps it was a dark animal awaiting the best opportunity to attack her. She shivered, but refused to back down.

A minute passed by. Still silence.

Two minutes, and the woods remained deadly quiet.

With a shaky intake of air, she resumed to her walk. She had just taken a couple of steps, when she hit a hard surface and stumbled backwards, ungraciously. She would certainly fall if not for the big hand that caught her in the mid-air.

"Who are you?" A deep, husky voice asked, finally making his presence known.

Anastasia frowned and glanced up, and up, and then up some more. Whoever this person was, it surely was tall and wide.

The little girl stepped out of his steely grip in a blink of an eye. She tilted her head as high as she could and held her chin proudly. She was already lost, so she had nothing else to loose.

"Who are _you_?" She asked instead, poking the dark figure with her stick.

The man didn't answer right away. He stood silent, studying the child with attentive eyes. Anastasia began to dread what he could say. Perhaps she shouldn't have jabbed him so determinedly with her twig. Perhaps she had hurt him and now couldn't do anything to help. She was just about to take a step forward and ask if the person needed anything, when a startling noise made her heart flutter widely.

He laughed.

He laughed loudly. And his laugh was just as velvety and enticing as his voice.

* * *

**A/N: **So, just to clear the air… Yes, Anastasia is almost blind, but she probably won't stay that way forever. Christian will make sure of that.

Anyway, THANK YOU for the support!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I'm very, very, very sorry for the delay! I'll try to answer to as much reviews as possible, so if you have a question, shoot it.

**3.**

A scarlet velvety haze hovered over Grey's head. The sun was already half-way set, leaving behind a trail of autumnal warmth. There was a crisp breeze twirling with the leaves on the trees, the grass on the floor, the tunic on his body. It felt good. So good, indeed, that he decided today he would venture a little farther into the woods.

The Master had always enjoyed his surroundings. The deep, dark forest that circled his castle was both frightening and magical. There was something simply fantastical about the way those centenarian branches rose magnificently towards the silky sky. There were deep, dark corners that provided shadow and intimacy; and then there were bright, open clearings that conceded peace and beauty. The woods were mysterious. The creatures were shy and private. The life thrived in the solitude. It was just what a beast, such as Christian Grey, Lord and Master of these lands, would need and appreciate.

And indeed, appreciating was his current predicament. In fact, he was so involved in the sensations he was receiving, he failed to notice the tiny other body that was wandering through the same paths.

"Who is there?" A whispered voice called out through the shadows of the bushes.

Grey stilled. Something that resembled a chill passed through his spine. He gritted his teeth. How dare someone else disturb his calmly evening walk? How dare anyone wander through _his_ forest? Reckoning no one else would roam around those routes made him get out of the house without his usual protection, his most trusted hood – the only piece of clothing that would never allow prying eyes to take a sneak peek at his scarred and beastly features.

Taking a deep and controlled breath, he curled his hands into steely fists, and stood rooted to the spot. Waiting to perceive the intruder.

Finally, footsteps resounded through the empty space. Dry leaves were being scrunched under light feet. A little figure appeared by his right side. A girl. A small, fragile girl. The Master's eyebrows rose in utter surprise. _A child?_ That, certainly, wasn't what he was expecting to find.

He didn't move though. Shock was running too deeply in his veins. It was getting dark and harder to make out the details in the little girl's face. He was counting on scarring her for life with his looks, but unexpectedly, the tiny child bumped into him.

Again he was render speechless, but his reflexes reacted fast enough for him to catch the girl before she could fall flat on the dirt.

"Who are you?" He finally asked, recovering his voice and senses.

As quickly as he had grabbed her, she fleeted from his tight grip. With a tilt of her curly-haired head she glanced up, holding her chin defiantly. Grey's brows arched further up. The girl was looking straight at him almost as if she could gaze into his soul, and yet, there was something in her eyes. Something that resembled a haze. And he noted that she couldn't see clearly. Or perhaps not even at all.

To say that _that_ relieved the pressure he was feeling, was putting it mildly. It was beyond his luck to know the only person he had ever encountered in his property wasn't someone that could see just how frightening his face was.

"Who are _you_?" The tiny girl asked instead, poking him with her thin stick, her voice as confidant as she could muster.

The Master was unable to think for a second. This – having children exploring his forest – wasn't something he should encourage, but still, perhaps given the girl's boldness or the fact that she couldn't see him properly or even the absurdity of the whole situation, he laughed.

Grey laughed loudly and heartily. He laughed like he hadn't done in years. In fact he couldn't even remember the last time anything had amused him to the point of guffaws. His reaction was just as unexpected to him as it was to the girl.

She took a step back, cautiously.

He pondered not answering her. He _didn't_ have any obligations, after all. But she was like a breath of fresh air. An air Grey hadn't scent in an eternity. He wanted to entertain her for a little bit longer.

"I am the owner of these woods." He said pointedly, with a curious smirk on his lips. "And you?"

His voice made it clear that this time, his question was to be answered. "I'm Anastasia." The brunette finally complied. She worried madly over her reddened lower lip. "I'm sorry to step into your woods Sir," She continued. "I didn't mean to get this far."

His smirk turned into a full smile. The girl was somehow compelling. "Then why did you?" He insisted smoothly.

"I got lost." She confessed with a slight frown of her forehead.

"Oh," Grey breathed, expecting her to start crying or maybe asking for the much needed help. She did neither though. Anastasia kept looking straight at him, defiantly, without showing a hint of the fear she was feeling inside.

"What's your name?" She questioned instead.

The Lord's smile was now a grin. She was cute. "Beast." He said completely amused, hoping to see some kind of terrified expression on her face.

But once again, much to his pleasure, he was surprised. Anastasia simply frowned deeper and bit her plump lip some more. "That's not a name." She interjected after a while.

"Well, it is mine." He declared solemnly.

"Why?" The petite girl demanded placing a soft little hand on her waist. This made Grey's eyebrow rise questionably.

"_Why_?" He insisted, clearly too much amused to let the subject drop. He should probably send the child on her way back home, but he was having so much fun. He had never felt similar ease within the company of others.

"Yes." Anastasia's voice was low but steady and controlled. "Why is it your name Beast? Are you one?"

The Master's smile faltered briefly. Much to his relief, his interrogator couldn't see the flash of sadness that adorned his eyes once he heard the question. "Yes." He finally admitted, more pained than he would care to recognize. "I am. I am a beast."

His voice had been somber and utterly grievous. He meant what he said. And with that, he thought, it would be any minute now when the little brunette would try to run from his side. Still, and much like before, she kept her place steadily. With no hint of fear, she tilted her head sideways and peered at the Lord through long and dark lashes. Unlike her, he took a step back, unsettled with her piercing gaze. He could have sworn she had look upon the depths of his tainted soul.

"I do not think you are." Anastasia stated calmly as if discussing the wonderful weather the afternoon had given them.

Grey snorted, feeling slightly insulted with this girl's quick assumptions. Who was she, if but a mere child, to make judgments of who he really was? If he said he is a monster, then he _is_ a monster. Her thinking should matter not. Yet his chest constricted with the certainty of her voice. Something spread hotly through his body. Something he didn't recognize. Something he wasn't familiar with. Hope, perhaps?

"You don't think so?" He asked dryly pacing back and forth now. "And how would you even know?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders uncommitted. "You do not act like one."

The Master growled, unpleased with her confidence. The faith she was putting in him was most disconcerting. He wasn't used to it and he didn't know what to do with it either. "I may be fooling you." He whispered huskily taking a step closer. "I may be a monster just waiting for the right moment to attack. I may be a beast Anastasia," He crouched in front of her, trying to make their heights similar. It was hard, she was very tiny. "And you have no way of confirming that."

Why he was hoping to scare her, Grey couldn't know for sure. Perhaps just to cement the fact that he was right, that he is indeed a beast, but somehow deep, deep down buried beneath thick layers of self-loathing he was also hoping the girl _wouldn't _run away.

Indeed, she didn't run, but Anastasia suck in a shaky breath and expel it softly with her eyes casted down. Finally she lifted her gaze to meet his, even though she couldn't see him. The sun was already down and there were no more shadows to guide her. She could only trust her other senses.

"Are you going to hurt me?" She breathed quietly. Too quietly. Almost as if her voice was but a mere caress. A caress that reached the core of Christian's chest making him shiver at the sudden and quite unexpected sensation.

He didn't even thought, when he answered, most adamantly, "No."

The brunette rejoiced, relieved, instantly trusting his words. She shouldn't be so innocent, yet he dared not to discourage her. He surprised himself by realizing he _wanted _her trust. The girl's lips curved shyly at the corners and she gave him a small, unsure smile. One that he responded effervescently with an honest grin of his own.

His heart, or what remained of it, flatted gazing upon the fragile yet bold creature with those hazed-eyes. "Are you blind?" He question was crass and quite direct, but if she got offended, she did not show it in the slightest.

Anastasia simply nodded, resigned. "I am."

"Completely?" The Master pushed further.

"No," She complied, worrying over her lip slightly. "I can see shadows when there is light. And some colors, if they are bright enough."

"I see," He murmured absently, trying to imagine a life without sight. A gust of wild wind swept through the air and twirled with the dark locks of the girl's hair. She tucked her curls tightly behind her ear and while doing so, his eyes perceived the loose piece of dirty cloth she had wrapped around her small hand. "Are you hurt?" He asked softly.

At first Anastasia frowned, not sure of what the supposed Beast – the one she knew he wasn't – was asking. But then, gentle yet strong and calloused hands grabbed hers in a tight grip, and she understood he was meaning the cut. "No…" Her voice trembled, not from pain, but recalling the clumsiness and the mess she had made previously. "I just cut myself."

"With what?"

"Earthenware." She confessed embarrassedly.

Grey's brows furrowed. "How?" He pressed, a surprising concern blooming inside him. He placed her slim and fair hand on his left, unraveling the old material with the right one. Finally, her palm was exposed to the night's breeze. The cut wasn't big but it was deep.

Anastasia shuddered, not out of cold, but because Beast's fingers were the gentlest touch she had ever received. His hands were big. Enormous even. They could definitely crash hers into pieces, yet he chose to be caring and soft. No one was ever caring or soft with her. Not after her mother's death.

"I dropped a plate." She admitted lowly. "It was just the last. I was almost done and then…" She gulped loudly. "I fell, and it shattered, and I couldn't pick it up. I couldn't see it, I cut myself and I…" Her words came rushing out, full of haste and nervousness. Would the Beast reprimand her as well?

"Shh," He assured her, pressing one thick and long finger to her lips. The Master wasn't sure he truly understood the story but whatever had happened, it was obvious it was a distress to the poor girl and he wish not to upset her further. "Let me help," He said instead.

With quick movements, he ripped the hem of the silky tunic he was wearing and replaced the dirty cloth with it. He wrapped it tightly around Anastasia's hand, feeling satisfied with the results once he was done.

"Thank you," Anastasia mumbled quietly.

"You should go home." Grey said eyeing the night's definite arrival. He was shocked at how pained his voiced sounded. He wasn't quite ready to let go of this little yet entrancingly curious child. He couldn't remember ever feeling so many emotions in one evening.

The brunette's eyes widened painfully. She didn't want to, and she almost voicing it aloud, barely stopping herself from screaming. She was scared. Absolutely scared of the wrath she would have to face once she stepped foot home, and yet deep down, she knew her Beast was right. She _had_ to go.

She nodded swiftly, a sadness in her movements. "I should." She finally agreed with of bow of her head.

Christian didn't know why she was so somber or, more importantly, why he cared so much but he found that he wish not to have the tiny girl distressed. "Do you need help getting back?"

Anastasia tilted her head sideways, furrowed her brow and bit her plump lip, thinking thoroughly. After a minute of silence went by, she came to her conclusions. "Yes. Only to the main road."

Internally, the Master sighed in relief. Though it was night, and dark as coal, he wished not to encounter any peasant that may wander in any of his villages. He felt secure within the perimeter of his castle's woods, especially since he was without his most trusted hood.

"Come." He ordered while out-stretching a hand towards Anastasia. She sensed his movement and extended her own, placing it gingerly on his palm. _So tiny_, Grey mused to himself. They began walking over the dry leaves that rested on the ground and through the thick trees that rose from it. Though he was guiding the child, her hazy vision made her stride hard and tumultuous. "Do you need assistance?"

The girl stilled for a moment, then raised her chin, huffed and said defiantly. "No. I do not."

His lips immediately stretched into a pleased smirk. There she was, the bold little chit that he came across moments ago. He liked her. And that's why he didn't lose a second thought, grabbing her thin waist and picking her from the floor.

"Hey!" She protested warily, unsure of what was going on.

"It is faster this way." Grey assured, amusement laced into his tone.

Anastasia squirmed a little, a bit frightened from being so high off the ground, but then calmed down completely. Somehow she felt secure in Beast's arms. They were gripping tightly around her body, crushing her to his broad and hard chest. It wasn't a painful hold, just a trustworthy one. He placed her sideways to his torso, one leg of hers to each side of his ribs. She was seated on his forearm, her head resting on his shoulder. She weighted practically nothing, yet he was very aware of her presence.

The Lord wondered to himself how a little girl as this one would come about his private lands. She was young, certainly not a day over ten years, and he was being kind with that assumption. So how would she roam through woods, strange dark woods at twilight, with no one's supervision? Had she not a family?

He sighed displeased with those thoughts but tried hard to not dwell on it.

Grey was right, by carrying her, they got to the main, slimy, dirty road fair quickly. He stepped out of the comfortable hideout the forest provided him and onto the open, cleared route. With a brief glance at the brunette, he placed her gently on the floor, making sure she could support the weight of her own body before he unloosened his grip.

"We are here." He said with a surprisingly hoarse voice.

The girl nodded and grabbed her stick tightly. She hadn't dropped it, not even when Beast was carrying her. She knew it was now nightfall, and she would need it even in this very road, regardless of knowing it like the back of her hand. Her house was just a very end of it, after all the others ones, before a big oak tree.

"Thank you."

The Master should had just turned his back and walked away. He had done his part – more so, since he never helped anyone, and especially not wandering children. But he couldn't simply leave it at that. "You know," He started, a small smile forming on his luscious lips. "Little girls like yourself should not roam around such dark and dangerous treads. Haven't anyone told you so, before?"

Anastasia bit her lip. Her father was always proclaiming the same. Yet she went to the woods alone and found none of those mysterious and terrifying creatures. "Yes." She answered boldly, folding her arms in her chest. "I was told that."

She didn't try to explain anything further to pinpoint who it was that had warned her previously or to clarify why she defy that. She was back to her defiant, fiery self and Christian Grey – Master and Lord of these lands – decided that was the image and memory he wanted to leave with.

So he bowed amusedly, even though she could not see his gesture, and eyed her longingly. "Be careful." He demanded seriously.

The girl nodded silently and understood it was time to go. Firmly pointing her frail stick to her front, she turned in the direction of the village – she could hear the familiar sounds. She took a step forward, but glanced back, unable to resist.

"Goodbye Beast." She whispered softly.

Her voice was gentle and smooth. It dissipated itself in the wind and came to Christian's ears as a fondle gesture. In that moment, he had the most disturbing thought ever; that child, that fragile girl, that fiery brunette was beautiful. The recognition brought pain to his heart, though he knew not if regarded the fact that she was but a mere kid or that he probably would never see her again.

"Goodbye Anastasia." He whispered back unsure if she could ear him.

Grey didn't wait to find out, though, he turned around and strode to the empty safeness of his woods before she could acknowledge his farewell.

_Anastasia_, he mused to himself, all the way back to his castle.

* * *

_– 10 years later – _

The dark beast trotted fearlessly under him. The day was clear and bright, the sky the lightest shade of blue. It seemed like a nice time to tie unresolved matters. It wasn't something he was looking forward to, but it wasn't something he could postpone it any longer either.

Christian Grey was indeed a beast of his word. And his words had been that he would collect one of the peasant's daughters once he saw fit. Well, today he saw fit.

It was now or probably never. Too much time had unraveled upon. The lasses had had enough years to grow into women, and now he was to take one. For some reason, his mind drifted back to that damned evening when he found a little, frail brunette wandering through his woods.

_Anastasia_, his conscious whispered menacingly at him.

Over the course of this past decade Grey searched the forest wildly, during the twilight, hoping to bump into her again. Hoping to hear her soft voice, feel her tiny hands, gain her trust. But of course, he was a cursed monster, luck wasn't bestowed to him. Never again did he saw her. Never again would he, most likely, see her.

That fazed him too much for his own well. And that's why he chose to pick and take one of Raymond's daughters today – to try and forget what should have been forgotten long ago.

He arrived at the little cottage quickly and without a second thought, dismounted his horse, tying his reins to one of the branches of the big oak tree that nearby. The peasant was already at the door – no doubt warned by his neighbors that the Master had been riding towards here – and was looking like he had seen not one, but all ghosts that ever roam the earth at once.

His face was both paled and flushed. His hands were sweaty and trembling. He knew not what to do. Raymond had, foolishly, hoped this day would never come. Now here it was. Master Grey was confidently striding towards him, towards his home, towards his children, ready to take one away. This was surely the worst day ever.

"Raymond." Grey said calmly hiding the turmoil he was feeling inside, once he got to the front door.

The peasant bowed his head right away. "My Lord." He breathed shakily. "What can I do for you?"

The Master's eyebrow rose disapprovingly. It displeased him immensely to be played for a fool. "You know very well what I am here to do."

Raymond gulped loudly, passed a trembling hand through his thin mane of hair and exhaled unsurely. He finally nodded and motion for his Lord to follow him inside. Cautiously, he peered with curious eyes towards Master Grey's face, but it was skillfully hidden behind the shadows of his large hood.

Once inside, Raymond's agitation returned. "My Lord…" He began, his voice weak and tired. "Isn't there anything else I can please you with? I will gladly give whatever you ask for, but please, do not take one of my daughters away."

Grey's impatience began to stir. He took a step towards the peasant so that they were mere inches away. "Raymond Steele," He said menacingly. "We had a deal. I honor my word. And I expect you to do the same. Unless you wish me to take all three of them and leave you with none."

The peasant's backed away and stumbled ungracefully. He was shaking everywhere. He wished to change the deal, to enable this monster to steal one of his girls, but he knew there was no hope, no way out. He had done this to himself. "I will call them." He announced.

The Master nodded swiftly and took a step back, giving room to the confined space. He waited a while, until finally, Raymond returned to his presence followed by two lovely young ladies. Indeed, they were no longer children, but instead beautifully grown women.

"My Lord," The peasant said. "These are my daughters, Katherine and Julianne."

They both stood warily side by side, intimidated by the large and powerful figure that was not only occupying their home but bringing bad news as well. Grey observed them too, attentively. They were pretty. Julianne was clearly the older. She was also the tallest. Her skin was fair, her hair a pale sun-kissed shade, her eyes a blue so dark it could be mistaken by black. Her beauty was stoic and statuesque. Katherine's, on the other hand, was lovely and lively. Her hair was a reddish mane of blonde curls and her eyes a green-sea. She was more curvaceous, warmer.

Even though he couldn't deny they were a pleasant sight, it wasn't what his heart was craving. None of them represented what he truly desired. He sighed internally, getting so frustrated with his own longings, that he almost missed the fact that before him only stood two instead of three girls.

"Raymond," The Master spoke deadly making the ladies take a step back. "Where is the third?"

"I…" The peasant gulped and rubbed his nervous hands on his worn-off breeches. "My youngest daughter… She has a disability. I did not wish to offend my Lord by presenting her to you."

Grey growled lowly. Who was he, if not but a pathetic man, to decide what was worthy of being presented? It was their deal. Three daughters – from where he would choose. Not two. _Three_.

"I want to see all." He simply stated.

"But Master Grey… She is but a mere crippled," The fat man stopped mid-sentence. It was obvious his lord would not back down. Instead he turned to Julianne. "Go fetch Ana." He ordered. The older stepped out of the room with a huff and an unpleasant expression.

It didn't take long for the blond to return. She was flushed and displeased, shaking her modest skirts violently to clean the dirt and leaves that were now gathered at the hem. "She was by those woods again." She complained. "She is always there – such a nasty habit."

Raymond sighed audibly and frowned visibly. With a hand he whipped the drops of sweat that formed on his head. "I already warn her to stay away." He confessed to both the blonds. "She never listens."

Grey's brow quirked upwards. Whoever the youngest was, she was obviously a nuisance to the family. That irked him, somehow, but he wasn't able to dwell on that much longer for the last daughter entered the room quietly.

She had her head bowed and came with her hand extended, searching her father's guidance. Raymond took it and brought her to his side. Even without seeing her face, the Master could tell she had little resemblance towards her older siblings. Whereas the others were blonde and womanly, this one was petite and soft. Her hair was a silky veil of deep chestnut strands, so wild and shinny, it almost appeared exotic. Her skin was ivory flawless and her waist as tiny as he had ever seen.

He was already intrigued by her appearance.

"My Lord," The peasant spoke. "This is my youngest daughter, Ana."

At that introduction, the lady unclasped her hand from her father, straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, tilted her head up and held her chin defiantly in a proud stance. And that was the moment when Grey's heart stopped beating altogether.

_There_, gazing boldly at him – appearing to look upon the depths of his soul just like in the first encounter – stood _his_ little girl. Except she wasn't a girl anymore but instead a petite, fiery woman. Her eyes still held the same haze as before and now he could see they were the lightest, clearer shade of blue he had ever come across.

Grey took a step forward unconsciously. All the other persons in the room were immediately forgotten.

"Anastasia," His voice was nearly a plea, so husky and low.

The brunette's eyes widened tremendously. Her full lips parted slightly forming an expression of utter surprise. She could not believe her ears and yet, somehow, she could feel his presence. It _was_ him.

"Beast," She whispered breathlessly.

Christian sighed deeply. Luck was finally bestowed to him.

* * *

**A/N:** Just to make things clear: Anastasia was 8, Katherine 11 and Julianne 13. Now it has passed ten years, so I guess it's easy to conclude they're 18, 21 and 23 respectively. Regarding Christian's age, I'm not sure yet, because I'm thinking about maintaining the fantasy aspect of the tale (without being childish, of course!) so I can't answer that one for sure.

**Thank you for reading!**


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